


Accountability

by quoththewriter



Category: Primeval
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-18
Updated: 2012-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-31 09:03:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quoththewriter/pseuds/quoththewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Becker knew Matt was an odd man, but sometimes, he wondered... Just a bit of nonsense headcanon regarding 4x04.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accountability

Matt sends Becker into the kitchen with the promise of beers in the fridge and he's only opened the door before he stops, eyeing the object opposite him with a hint of confusion. 

“...Is that salt?”

Matt’s voice answers from the other room. “Yeah, why?”

“What’s it doing in the _freezer_?”

Silence meets his answer and Becker, curious, sticks his head around the door to peer into the living room. Matt is sitting on the couch with a furrow in his brow, his eyes a million miles away.

“Matt."

The man in question blinks, green eyes coming back to life as they flicker over to him. Becker holds up the tiny glass shaker of salt in question and Matt glances away, trying his best to look disinterested.

“Helps it keep longer," he answers.

Becker stares at his back, the gears turning in his head. The answer makes no sense, he has to realise that. And he has to realise Becker would notice, too. So it must be something else. Something he isn’t seeing. People don’t just put salt shakers in the freezer because they feel like being strange. Then again, Matt never does say much about himself. Maybe he’s just exceptionally strange.

Yet something about this whole thing doesn’t add up. Becker tries to calculate this in his head. If it was an OCD sort of thing or something - and Becker does’t think Matt is the OCD sort, but then, his flat is unnaturally neat. Then again, it also helps that there is hardly a thing in it to get it messy.

“Hey, Matt.”

Green eyes turn in his direction, curious.

“What about the pepper?”

Those eyes flicker away again, genuinely disinterested this time.

“What about it?”

Not an OCD thing, then. Becker shakes his head and returns to the kitchen, still puzzled. The salt shaker is cold to the touch but it is slowly warming in his hand. His leg knocks against the island as he enters, too busy trying to solve the mystery in his hand to pay attention to where he’s placing his feet.

A sudden phantom twinge in his leg brings back a memory. A memory of ambush and pain and heat, blood and blackness and shouting. He remembers in flashes the creatures, half mammal, half reptile, all ugly. Sharp teeth laced with poison. And a confined space. Cold air. A freezer.

He remembers a voice shouting,

_“There’s gotta be salt in here somewhere!”_

Oh, he thinks. _Oh_.

And then, he smiles.

He goes back to the fridge for the beer, finding it as Matt said it would be, on the door. He grabs two bottles and pauses before leaving. The cold air washes over him and he shivers, but its more from the memory than anything else.

He sets the salt back on the top shelf and closes the door. When he returns to the living room and Matt asks him what kept him, he answers with a grin.

“Oh, I just gave you thirty seconds."

**Author's Note:**

> This happened because of a comment I made about a gif on my tumblr. It was intended to be funny, but undeniably it turned into angst. A nod to the salt thing in 4x04.


End file.
